


Becoming Human (Again)

by CinnamonRaisinBagel



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Androids, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Dadzawa, I wrote this instead of studying, Kinda, M/M, Men Crying, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Protective Bakugou Katsuki, Protective Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Slavery, and sleeping, dadmight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27224056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonRaisinBagel/pseuds/CinnamonRaisinBagel
Summary: Following the stories of people whose lives don't know will affect each other.Bakugo is gifted an android by a friend and only accepts it because he needs someone to clean his house while he's out doing hero work. Kirishima acts too real sometimes. He hates people in his space. He likes his solitude. But Kirishima's just a machine so it's fine.The ex-symbol of peace needs a caregiver in his more difficult years of retirement. An android named Izuku makes a great company, and right away he can see there's something different about him.Finally, Aizawa is training Hitoshi in the training room when all hell breaks loose. The secret is out and he's not sure what to do.After all, Deviants are to be apprehended and turned into the police to be destroyed or recycled. What happens when a massive recall of androids threatens their lives? What will the humans do? Will their pasts catch up with them before it's too late?These were supposed to be oneshots. Now it's a whole damn series. I'm so totally gonna expand on this and make it hurt. I'm proud of these, they came out well. If you like to feel the feels and then the comfort after, that's what I'm all about.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto
Comments: 74
Kudos: 105





	1. The Master

**Author's Note:**

> Jesus Christ its passed two AM. I have math homework and two art projects. I hate college. My cat ate a babe bird, I was very upset. Anyway please enjoy.

When Bakugo returns home he’s pissed. 

More pissed than Kirishima’s ever seen him. He’s used to his master’s short temper by now. The Pro Hero had always been a bit hot-headed and cold. But today is different. This is...different.

Kirishima errs on the side of caution and decides to hang back instead of doing his regular ‘welcome home!’ greeting to Bakugo at the door. He flinches as he hears the front door slam, a high-pitched clock of wood on wood reverberating throughout the house. There are loud stomping and gnarled curses getting closer to where Kirishima is folding laundry in his room. 

The android is suddenly hyper-aware of what he’s doing. He goes through everything he’s done today and yesterday, hoping he hasn’t left any stone unturned. It’s irrational. After all, in all his time he’s been with Bakugo, the Pro hero has never hurt him in any way. Though...he has threatened him a lot. Mostly along the lines of, ‘SHUT UP, I’LL KILL YOU TIN CAN!’ and so on. But it’s never gone any farther than that. But if Bakugo’s mad enough, could he…? Ah no, it shouldn’t matter. Even if he does hurt him, he’s not doing anything wrong, he doesn’t think. That’s just another task androids have to deal with, right?

Kirishima jumps when a slam echoes right outside the bedroom door. He swallows, but still puts on a good-natured smile as the Pro marches through the door. 

Bakugo Katsuki bursts in, the sound of screaming hinges almost outclassed by the sound of it nearly ripping out of the wood. He’s still in his hero get-up, roughed up to high hell, and covered in what seems to be the remnants of rubble on his person. 

Kirishima can’t hide the way he jumps as he’s almost run over by the charging bull of a man. Bakugo thankfully stops in time, red eyes blinking in anger, confusion, and then coldness. Kiri’s smile is lopsided by now, but he still attempts a cheerful greeting. 

“Welcome home Bakugo. Laundry’s almost done and dinners in the cooker. Can I help you with anythin-”

“ **No. Shut up and leave me the fuck alone** ,” he hisses, venom dripping off every word. His face is dark and empty. Too empty. His body trembles in what looks to be suppressed rage bouncing around like a firecracker in his bones. But none of that even compares to his gaze. The gaze he gives Kirishima. 

It’s  **murderous** . And Kirishima, despite not needing air, forgets what it means to breathe at that moment. There’s a feeling that scratches around the cell walls of his mind in a panic. He slips through a million words before one enters his mind. 

_ Fear _ . Kirishima is afraid, so very afraid right now. Of that look. Of this man. Of being hurt. Of being broken-

It disappears as Bakugo vanishes with it. The bathroom door slams shut and Kirishima is left to deal with the raging thrum of his blue heart against his chest. Panicked tears prick his eyes but he quickly pushes them down. He takes a few experimental breaths before continuing with his current task. 

This is what he gets. This is what he gets for thinking. He won’t do it anymore. He understands what it means now. 

Minutes pass by. Then hours. Then nearly most of the night. Dinner has gotten cold. Kirishima puts the leftovers in containers and stores them in the fridge. Bakugo has always been one that hates waste, so even though he didn’t ask, he’s sure he’s doing the right thing. 

By now he’s getting worried. His master has been unresponsive for several hours. It would be against his master’s wishes to talk to him. He’s even a bit nervous at the idea. Still, he has a job to do, he reasons. And his master’s well-being should be his top priority. 

Kirishima approaches the bedroom when suddenly he hears something. Grunting. Grunting and something pounding. He picks up his speed until he’s in front of the bathroom door. 

The noises get louder, and he can hear Bakugo’s heavy panting and frustrated voice behind the thin wood. He sounds hurt. Each thud is proceeded by a pained cry. After some deliberation, it hits Kirishima like a brick. He can’t let Bakugo keep doing this. 

His hand shamefully shakes as it hovers over the door. Two knocks. The sounds stop, and so does Kiri’s heart, “H-hey, Bakubro. It’s really late, huh? I think you have a meeting in the morning. Can I get you something warm to drink before bed?” He hopes his casual nickname of his master doesn’t upset him too much. Sometimes he likes to tease. He gets the impression Bakugo likes it when he does, so he kept it up. Maybe now was a good chance to raise his spirits up. 

Everything is quiet for a while. Then Kiri hears the door click. He’s relieved- until he sees the look on Bakugo’s face. He doesn’t even get to blink before Bakugo has him by the throat and pushed against the farthest wall. His feet hover off the floor. His instinct is to kick but that only makes the hero snarl and slam him against the wall for good measure. 

“Shitty Fuck. I’ll show you. I’ll fucking show you who you’re dealing with!” Bakugo spats, raising one hand above his head. The android can see there are bruises all over his face and body. Bruises made from when he was punching himself relentlessly in the bathroom, probably taking out his own anger on himself. And now Kirishima had brought him out of there. So he could take out his rage on  _ him _ . 

Orange sparks fly from the Pro’s raised fist, his hand drawing closer and closer to Kiri’s face. Bakugo’s face twists in a cruel sneer. He openly laughs when Kiri whimpers at the heat and tries pushing the wall behind him, “Aw, what’s wrong? Can’t take it? You don’t even have skin. You’re fake. You’re not real, shitty fuck!” he booms, slamming the android up against the wall again, this time, hard enough to crack the wall behind him. 

Kiri might be hyperventilating, but that’s not possible. He doesn’t need air. His blood doesn’t carry oxygen. It’s blue blood. It’s different, right? Right? He’s not sure. He’s not sure about anything anymore. He thought he did everything right. He did all the chores perfectly, made all the meals deliciously. He was always attentive and patient. He did everything right, so why? Why was this happening? Was he not good enough? 

There’s a new emotion swelling in his gut this time.  _ Powerlessness _ . The tears that pricked his eyes earlier that he had tried to push down resurface. He’s not sobbing, but his voice does hitch. A tear falls freely down his face, orange light reflecting off of it like a sunset over water. 

“I...I’m sorry...” he chokes, his hands blindly prying at the hand around his throat. “Master...please…” His voice rises, desperate. There’s pure dread in his tone, an emotion he’s never heard himself use in all his time he’s been conscious.

Bakugo blinks once. Then twice. His face changes, suddenly realizing what he’s doing. The sparks dissipate from his hand and he drops the android to the floor. 

Kirishima pants, holding his throat with both of his hands. His fingers carefully brush over the newly formed dents lining his neck like a ribboned choker. He shakes when he feels the metal around his throat is still pliable. He breathes harder. More desperate. He’s not panting because he needs air. He’s panting because...he doesn’t know. He just needs it. He needs air. He doesn’t know why! He doesn’t know anything! Silent tears roll down his cheeks. 

Bakugo is sitting on the floor, staring at Kiri like a deer in headlights. His hand that was brandishing the fire is still in front of him like it’s a deadly weapon he doesn’t trust himself to put down. 

The Pro opens his mouth, “I...I’m so...” His jaw clenches up. The emotions spill with the heavyweight of his shoulders. He holds his head in his hands and takes in a shaky breath. “What the hell am I doing? What the hell did I...almost…?”

Bakugo looks back up. Kirishima is cowering against the wall, hands still protectively over his throat. He watches the Pro with wild terrified eyes that are still glazed with tears. 

“You can cry?” Bakugo whispers. It’s the first time Kiri has ever heard his voice so soft, “Why... _ how _ can you cry?”

Ironically, the words seem to pull out more tears from beneath the brunette’s eyes, “I...I don’t know….I just…” There’s a knot in Kiri’s throat that’s keeping him from speaking. Whether that’s physical or not, he’s not sure, “What...what did I d-do wrong?” He’s able to utter before his voice dies out. 

The words sting Bakugo because he winces, “You… no...it’s my...It’s my fault. I...today.” He starts off slow and broken, a long flash of memories flashing over his eyes that Kiri can’t see. “I...killed someone.” At the confession, Bakugo immediately wraps his fingers in his hair and pulls hoping the pain washes away the painful memory. It only ever works a little or only temporarily. 

Kirishima says nothing to that, only shrinking more into the wall. Bakugo’s mouth moves without his permission, “I didn’t- I didn’t know she was under the- FUCK!” He screams and beats the floor with his fist. The room around then shakes. Kiri is deathly still but can’t look away when Bakugo eyes stare intently into his. 

Another heavy sigh. The Pro hero uncurls his fists with some effort. He keeps taking deep breaths like he’s trying to calm himself down. His eyes flicker to where Kiri is holding his throat. He bites his bottom lip and swallows. 

“Did I...hurt you?” He asks, and he sounds serious in his question. Kiri runs his fingers over the dents. It doesn’t hurt. Androids can’t be hurt. They’re only machines. But for some reason, something else is hurting him, and it’s not even physical. It scares him. 

“N-not really…” He answers quietly. Bakugo doesn’t look convinced. 

The Pro gets up slowly as to not startle Kirishima. His bedside lamp is the only light on and right now and it’s knocked over on the floor. He goes to pick it up and also takes off his gloves. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed closest to the lamp and motions to the spot next to him, “Sit down. Let me have a look.”

The android freezes. Bakugo isn’t surprised but he also doesn’t let up, “Come on. You’re my android. I damaged you, I gotta fix you. I can’t do that if I don’t know the problem so...just…” he pauses, a pained look in his eyes before rubbing his face with a rough hand, “I won’t hurt you. I promise. I just want to see.”

The android would have gotten up anyway, but he guesses Bakugo doesn’t know that. It’s an order. And emotions aside, he can’t defy orders. Kiri is still for a few beats before he starts to move. Slowly. He sits on the bed and it creaks under him. He stares at Bakugo, who’s already looking tentatively at the grooves on his neck. He huffs and Kirishima can feel the breeze on his face. 

“Lift your chin a bit,” he instructs, and Kiri obediently does as he’s told. 

Bakugo moves his head, looking all the way around the android’s neck. Kiri feels his heartbeat spike, uneasiness jumping like electricity in his circuits. The Pro hero takes in a sharp intake of air and scowls. His scarred hand reaches up to touch the marks. When Kiri freezes, so does Bakugo. He suddenly is reminded of the feeling of heat on his face, his popping sparks so close it’s like there’s a campfire right next to his ear. Kiri stares warily at the same hand that almost fried him not ten minutes ago.

Bakugo lets his hand hover but he doesn’t pull away. “I just want to feel the marks. Can I touch you?” his rough voice rumbles easily in his chest. 

Kirishima almost chokes, but this time it’s for a different reason. He’s never...been  _ asked _ of something before. Not in the same way. He’s never had a choice of what’s done to him. What android does? That’s how it’s always been, how it’s supposed to be. The Pro hero has never asked him his wants before. He assumed that was normal. Why is it different now? He just wants things to de-escalate enough to go back to the way things were. 

Kiri inhales deeply, before nodding. He squeezes his eyes shut when the hero’s hand makes contact with his neck. The touch stills for a beat before moving. Bakugo’s hand radiates warmth. It’s a bit unnerving, honestly. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the fire. The pro’s digits brush over the marks over his throat. Kiri’s breath hitches, to which bakugo gives him a look before continuing. 

Bakugo finally pulls his hand away with an exasperated sigh, “I...think I melted you a bit.” Kiri’s own hand returns to his throat. His heart is beating uncomfortably fast, which doesn’t help as the word echoes in his head. Melted. He’d been  _ melted _ . Fire kills androids, destroys them the same way it destroys humans. Fire destroys to the point beyond repair. He shivers at the thought. 

Bakugo is suddenly on his feet, grabbing his gloves and heading towards the door. He looks back at Kirishima. There’s an expression he can’t read on his face. 

“I’ll call someone first thing tomorrow to fix you. Till then, don’t do anything. Just relax, and find something to do until they get here. I’ll...try to be back by then.” Bakugo takes one step out the door before he pauses, “And Kirishima. Call me by my name. Nothing else, got it?”

The android doesn’t even get a chance to reply before the Hero is gone. The door shut behind him. Nothing but one lonely android and a single lamp alive with light in the room. 


	2. The Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuku has shown his deviancy. He didn't mean to. What will Toshi think?

"I thought you can remember everything you hear," Yagi states in question, peering curiously at the notebook Izuku is writing in. Izuku stiffens, fear stilling his wrist. He was so deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard his charge enter the room. Izuku usually helps him out of his sitting chair and into his wheelchair. Had he done it himself?

Yagi is still looking at him, a little more curious now at his caregiver’s reaction. Izuku carefully puts his pen down and quickly closes his journal, wincing at how it only makes him look more suspicious. 

"I...I can.” he starts, not able to pry his gaze off his journal, or rather, more afraid to look at Toshi, “This notebook was in the trash and- I'll throw it out if it pleases you, I’m sorry- I mean-"

"Izuku my boy. Come here."

The android’s unease spikes, though he tries his damndest to not show it. He can't disobey an order. Not that he ever would with Toshi. He slowly puts down the notebook and walks over to kneel in front of the man in the wheelchair. Even then, the former symbol of peace towers over him.

"There’s nothing to fear, Izuku. In my desk drawer in my office, I have some empty notebooks. You can use those instead of something from the trash."

Izuku’s eyes widened. He...he honestly hadn’t expected that. He completely broke proper android behavior and yet, Toshi doesn’t seem to care. Though, when has Toshiniri ever said or done anything unkind to him? He should be used to his responses by now. Or should he?

Izuku isn’t sure anymore. He’s broken character before in the past but those times elicited...much different reactions. But then again, he’s never done anything this bold before. It’s because of how comfortable he’s gotten here. He forgot to stop and think about what he was doing. He had written.  _ Written _ ! He’d written things that weren’t related to his present tasks. Such behavior was forbidden of him, he knew. He knew all too well, how forbidden it was. He was never to think about himself. Only about his purpose. Only about how he can make himself useful for Toshiniri. 

But...Toshi isn’t like the people he’s served in the past. Toshi always thanks him when he makes his breakfast in the morning. He always engages him in lively chats and asks for his opinion on things. He even gives Izuku his own free time when he doesn’t need him, like when he’s sleeping or having a meal. Izuku has had a ball surfing through Toshi’s library filled with things from encyclopedias to old hero comics. 

Still, even with all those things...he can’t but feel apprehension. He's already shown what could be seen as 'deviancy' in the eyes of humans. Izuku is so happy here. What if were to screw it all up for a few written sentences? And when Androids are proven to be Deviants they get...they get...

Has to fix this. 

"I do not require literary devices Mr. Toshiniri. As you said, I have perfect photographic and audible recognition created to-"

Toshi raises his large pale hand to stop him. Izuku quickly shuts his mouth and the old man gives a short sigh, "Do not take me for a fool, Izuku. I know you better than to believe that. Drop the act."

Izuku feels tears stinging behind his eyes. Androids like Izuku are newer and made to be as life-like as possible. So of course he’s been programmed to cry. 

Why?  _ Why _ ? Why did his creator’s program such a useless feature that only serves to make him powerless to hide his emotions? It’s so unfair. Why do humans want a robot to look and act like a human but at the same time, completely despise them for the exact same thing? 

Izuku hands ball up, trembling, "Toshi...please, I-"

"I’m not upset with you Izuku." 

Izuku exhales but it’s more like a subdued sob. There's a sense of relief that breezes through him but there's also confusion. Toshiniri was the number one hero in the world. He of all people should...turn deviants in. Even him. Izuku knows he knows. They both have for a while now. Maybe all this time he’s just been waiting for the other shoe to drop. For his charge to finally get tired or angry at him like everyone else. Things have been too good to stay like this. 

Truthfully, Izuku isn’t sure when he turned deviant. He just remembers his feelings bubbling to the surface, too powerful to contain. Unable to keep himself from...doing things he wasn’t supposed to. Defying his systems efforts to keep him mechanical...

"Y-you aren’t?" Izuku whispers. He's crying and he's not even meaning too. He feels so small. Small and fragile. Like he could just snap under the pressure of the world at any moment. He’s also embarrassed -mortified to be acting so pathetic in front of the man he respects so much. 

Izuku’s eyes are shut when Toshi's enormous hand cups the android's cheek. Izuku stills and holds his breath. Afraid. But the old man's large thumb just brushes across his damp cheek. 

"Izuku, my boy. You're more alive than this old man you see before you." Yagi’s voice rumbles deeply in his chest. His gentle baritone voice is as warm as his hand. 

Izuku's breath hitches. He opens his eyes and more tears spill onto his cheeks. The ex-symbol of peace is smiling warmly at him, a smile that fills his soft blue eyes. 

"I don’t have much longer on this spinning marble. I've lived a full life. The only thing I have is the admiration of the person I once was. But you- you're going to keep going. And If there's a heaven, I only hope that there's a window I can look down from so I can all the things you're going to do."

A dam breaks in Izuku. The words are so genuine and magnanimous it’s too overwhelming for him to accept so openheartedly. There’s also a deep pain from his words. A reality he didn’t want to hear. Tears spill freely from his eyes and he holds Toshi's hand with his own, still pressed to cheek. 

"N-no Toshi! You're wrong!” Izuku wails, barely able to keep his voice in one tone, “T-the only reason I'm anything than what I was built for is because of you! You...you fixed me and...and you protected me. You still keep protecting me.”

Izuku pauses, unable to look at the old man now holding his face with both of his hands. 

"I-Izuku-" The old man starts, but Izuku shakes his head and cuts him off. 

"I...I was nothing before. I was s-so broken and a-afraid. You saved me. Toshinori was my hero. The hero that saved me-! And he didn't have to be the symbol of anything to do that..."

Toshi stares at him, mouth agape, surprise lifting the tired old lines on his face. He opens his mouth to say something back, but his voice is suddenly strained.

"Izuku...I..." 

"I don’t want you to go.," Izuku whines out, letting himself sob into Toshi's chest as the old man pulls him in for a careful hug.

Toshi finally pulls himself together, his expression and voice the softest he’s ever made it, "I’m sorry, Izuku. I’ve made you upset. I...won't leave you alone. I promise."

Toshi stops, planting his lips on Izuku’s forehead he continues to sob in his shirt. Strangely, he can’t help but smile at that. "Thank you, my boy." 

Maybe Toshi isn't ready to go yet after all. If it means staying to complete one more mission. 

Izuku.


	3. The Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aizawa is proud of his student. But something happens this training session. Something that changes everything. 
> 
> By the way chapters to be added. No way I can finish this in only 6 chapter lololol

They're training. Today is combat practice. Hitoshi lands more than one good punch. Aizawa can’t deny he feels pride from getting his ass handed to him by a fifteen-year-old. The kid has gotten better. Stronger. Quicker. He's always pushing himself. The only thing Aizawa worries about is Hitoshi’s ability to understand his own limits. To know when to stop and ask for help. 

Hitoshi’s legs start to tremble and that’s when Aizawa calls for a break. Hitoshi sits down on one of the gym benches and chugs his water bottle. Aizawa sits beside him. 

"Drink that too fast, you'll see it make a second appearance."

Hitoshi shrugs and places the bottle down beside the bench. They sit in peaceful silence. Hitoshi has his eyes closed and head tilted back, his breath starting to calm to a steady rhythm. 

Huh. Maybe too peaceful. 

"Don’t fall asleep, kid. You won't be wasting my time taking a nap when that’s what I could already be doing."

Hitoshi’s eyes snap open. He rubs his face with a soft grunt. 

"Mmng...sorry, sensei. I'm awake." 

"You getting enough sleep at night?"

"Yeah. That's not the problem."

"What’s the problem, then?"

"Nothing. I just get tired sometimes. I'm ready to keep going if you are."

Hitoshi jumps off the bench, stuffing his fists in his pockets as he walks back onto the padded floor. The break has barely been over five minutes. Aizawa lets it slide this time. If anyone, he knows what it’s like to be tired  _ and _ to be called out for being tired. Though, he'd like to get to know the problem more if he could. Maybe he could help Hitoshi find a working solution if he’d let him. Again, the kid doesn’t know when to ask for help. 

They go at each other a bit. Little by little, Aizawa picks it up. So far Hitoshi is taking it well. The kid is about to block a hit when his gaze goes blank. Aizawa can't stop himself in time. 

Hitoshi goes flying, skidding across the floor like a rock skipping on the water until he finally drops to the ground with a heavy thud.

"Shit- Hitoshi!" He's at the kid’s side where he's rolled onto his stomach. "What happened? Talk to me, kid." Aizawa puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder when Hitoshi suddenly jerks back. His body slaps on the padded floor when he’s unable to catch himself. 

" 'm fine." He mumbles lowly, already trying to get to his feet. His back is still to Aizawa, but his teacher can still see that his student is tightly clutching his arm to his chest. 

"Don’t move.” Aizawa orders, putting a fast hand on his shoulder. Hitoshi tries to squirm free, “Show me what hurts." His other hand is outstretched to take his student’s, but the boy shakes his head and twists himself away from him again. 

"No, 'm fine. Just...lemme go." His voice is deeper, lower. Maybe trying to conceal something his tone might give away. 

"Shinso, you’re not-" Aizawa starts, but he’s cut off when his boy makes a low sound. 

Suddenly, Hitoshi’s head snaps to glare at him over his shoulder, eyes red and teeth grit in a snarl, “I said I’m fucking fine! BACK OFF!"

Aizawa is thrown off long enough for Hitoshi to wriggle free. The kid takes two steps before crumpling to the floor, the pronounced shaking in his legs adding to his teacher’s alarm. This time though, Aizawa is there to catch him. It’s a thankless gesture. When he tries laying the boy back down, he starts thrashing in his hold. He keeps himself bent forward, his arms pressed against his chest, hidden from sight. 

His rigid position is worrying. Afraid he might hurt himself Shouta tries to loosen his grip, "Hitoshi- Stop. Let me see-"

"No! Let go!" His voice cracks, his anger replaced by frenzy. In a desperate attempt to free himself, Hitoshi plants his feet into the floor and pushes, swinging his head back to butt Aizawa in the jaw. He only half-succeeds. 

Aizawa clenches his teeth, suppressing a snarl. His patience officially runs out. He hugs the boy from behind in a crushing grip and brings his face close to his ear, "Hitoshi,  **THAT’S ENOUGH!** ” Hitoshi immediately stills in his hold, heart dropping in his chest. Aizawa takes full advantage and forces him down until his forehead is touching the padded floor. 

**“Show me. Now.** "

Hitoshi is stiff and silent. Aizawa almost repeats himself when the boy finally goes limp and lets himself be pulled up so his back is leaned against his teacher’s knee. It’s just as Aizawa thought. The boy is gripping his arm so tightly to his chest it’s nearly buried from sight. His teacher’s furrowed gaze makes Hitoshi want to furl forward to hide again. Shouta doesn’t let him and pushes him back with a gentler hand. Hitoshi can't hold back a sob when Aizawa carefully pries his arms forward to get a better look. 

_ Blue _ . There's blue sticking to his sweatshirt, his skin, now dripping onto the padded floor-

Hitoshi’s arm is bent at an unnatural angle. There's a tear in his skin exposing the mess inside -the mess of wires and metal. Not flesh and bone.  _ Not flesh and bone? _

Aizawa is frozen, shell-shocked. He stares at the sight unable to process it. He blinks several times but the image doesn't change. 

Hitoshi’s deep sobs hurt his throat and chest but he can’t seem to stop. He weakly pulls at his teacher’s grip because he can't  _ stand _ the look on his mentor’s face. It’s more painful than anything anyone has ever done to him.

His secret is out. His dream is as good as dead. It was a stupid feat from the beginning. Of course, he had let himself hope for too much. Now that he knew, Aizawa was going to turn him in. He's going to be killed- dismembered and used as spare parts. 

Maybe if he was unlucky enough, he'd be repaired and have his memory wiped. He's had his memory 'wiped' in the past. It would only make him forget for a little while before it all inevitably came back to him later. He didn’t want that.

If he was going to be fixed and sold again he'd rather just forget for good. He'd rather be a mindless droid with no thoughts or feelings like before. He doesn't want to remember the taste of freedom only to have it ripped away from him for the hundredth time. 

He couldn't do it. Not again.  _ Not again! _

Hitoshi sobs harder, unable to keep all the emotions he’s had buried for years down any longer. Aizawa is holding him by the shoulders but he barely registers it. Hitoshi has his eyes screwed shut and turned away as far as he can from his mentor- no, Ex-mentor. He has to accept that now. This was all temporary from the start. Just like it’s always been. Nothing has changed. But then why? Why does it hurt so damn much?

"Kid. Its okay. It’s okay, look at me," Aizawa's voice is too low and gentle to sound angry and disgusted. No. No, he will be. Any second now, he’ll drop him in disgust. Maybe he’ll rough him up a bit before bringing him in. That’s fine. Aizawa is logical and to the point. He’d made it quick. Besides, he deserves it, probably. 

Hitoshi opens his eyes but he doesn’t look at him. He wants to, but he’s too afraid of what his expression might be if he does. 

With nothing left to do, Hitoshi pleads in a voice so broken he sounds like a stranger to even himself, "Please...please Sensei, d-don't turn me in.” His voice catches in his throat, and he’s unable to suppress another sob before continuing, “I don't wanna die. I just wanted to be a hero l-like you. I'm sorry...sorry for lying and for-for..."

Hitoshi's words slur towards the end. His eyes hood over, head dipping slightly before falling back and lolling against his mentor’s knee. Exhaustion starts washing over him. The training, the yelling, the thrashing, the crying- all of it was finally burning him out. 

"Shinso. Kid, hey! What’s-" Aizawa puts a hand to the boy’s cheek and pinches softly. A surge of panic shoots through him when the kid didn’t so much as twitch. 

Hitoshi is dimly aware of the arms under his knees and back, scooping him up and carrying him. 

"Hnng.." he whines as his dented arm folds against his chest. Something soft drapes over him. It’s soft. 

"It’s okay, kid. Its… it’s okay. We're- we're going to be okay." He's never heard his mentor sound unsure before. The man has always been level-headed and straightforward about his every thought, his every decision, even in the worst of circumstances. It was one of the many reasons he admired his mentor. But the distress is so thick in his voice. And Hitoshi can’t for the life of him understand  _ why.  _


	4. The Teacher: Less of Two Evils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever heard of the term Deviant? 
> 
> AKA: If you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen.

Androids have only existed for about a decade. 

Typically, there are two types of people when it comes to the existence of androids. Some people feel threatened by artificial intelligence dominating the workforce and argue that quirks and villains are enough to worry about on their own. Others see androids as a hopeful and promising development that will aid citizens and heroes alike in the pursuit of peace. 

I guess you could say both parties were right in the end. 

Shouta was aware of their growing presence in society. But he never really gave a damn. If someone wanted a computer with arms and legs, that was none of his business. Yesterday if you asked him his opinion on androids he’d reply with dry indifference. But now…

Shinso was still unconscious when Shouta burst into the infirmary. It was late in the evening, most people had gone home or back to their dorms. But Recovery Girl was still at her desk filling out papers and wrapping things up for the day. She immediately jumped up out of her chair when she saw Aizawa’s overwrought expression and the boy limp as a doll in his arms. 

“Put him there.” The old woman ordered, pointing at the nearest bed and quickly rushing over to stand by it. The scrape of a footstool rubbing on the tiled floor reverberating along with Shouta’s sharp breathing. 

Aizawa carefully laid down the boy like he was made of glass, the cheap pillow and paper sheets crinkling a little too loudly under his weight. Shinso was still draped in his teacher’s scarf, a hasty decision Aizawa made in the heat of the moment. If anyone saw them on the way here, he didn’t want them knowing Shinso’s secret. At least, not yet. Not until he knew what he was dealing with. Not until he could make  _ sense _ of it. 

“What happened to him?” Chiyo asked bluntly, beginning to examine the boy. Her gloved hand reached up to his forehead and then his neck feeling for a pulse. 

The Pro took a moment to pull himself together, eyes pinched at the memories coming back on him harshly. “We were training.” He started softly, eyes darting to Chiyo and then back down Shinso's face. “He was tired but he wouldn’t admit it. He didn’t block the punch I threw at him and he went down hard.”

Chiyo shook her head and snapped her finger at the man, “You should know your student’s limits when they themselves don’t. This is what happens when you push too hard.” Chiyo scowled, straightening the boy’s head and neck on the pillow with careful hands. “I’ll deal with  _ you _ later. Now, where was he hit? Out with it.”

Aizawa’s eyes flickered to where Shinso’s chest was hidden under his scarf. His mind clearly said ‘his right arm and chest’ but his jaw stayed clamped shut. The reality of the situation wasn’t so easy to explain anymore, not like it used to be. He should have expected this. He didn’t exactly waltz into a cybernetic or auto repair store. Chiyo was a nurse, so could she even heal…? No, no. He came here so she could tell him he was fine. That’s why. She of all people would know. She knew Shinso so it would be fine. Everything would be fine, just like he told his student everything would be. And he was going to keep his promise. 

The old woman shot him what might have been a curious look before her smaller hand reached up to pull away the scarf his eyes were burning a hole into. Her soft gasp was followed by a thick uneasy silence. The blue-stained scarf folded and fell off the bed in strands. 

“Oh my...this is...”She stared wordlessly at the cracked metal and exposed wires protruding from the boy’s arm and wrist. Blue blood steadily dripped onto his black hoodie, a gift from Aizawa when he learned the kid only had his school uniform jacket. Maybe this explained why. 

He didn’t need to be told what he already knew. He was more concerned about whether or not Shinso was... “Is he…?” Shouta’s question died in his throat. He tentatively watched as Chiyo slipped the stethoscope off her shoulders and over her ears. Lifting the corner of Shinso’s jacket she placed the bell over his chest and listened. 

It was over after a brief minute but to Aizawa, it felt like an eternity of watching Shinso’s calm face and Chiyo’s concentrated expression. He still held his breath when she finally pulled away, wrapping the scope around her shoulders and letting go of a long exhale out her nose. 

“His heartbeat is a little slow, but his breathing seems even enough...as much as can be said for an android at least.” She stated simply. Aizawa’s stomach dropped, feeling like he’d just been punched in the gut. She had reached his first conclusion too. Yet, something else she said made his eyes betray his usually composed demeanor with a shine of hope and urgency. 

“He has a pulse then. And he’s breathing.”One of Shouta’s hands gripped the safety rail, an attempt to ground his (not actually) questions further. 

“That’s what I just said, yes.” She wasn’t as annoyed as she sounded, but she felt the need to push back. 

“Then he’s not an Android.”  _ He’s human _ .  _ It’s just his arm... _ The tiny piece of hope in the back of Shouta’s mind tumbled off his tongue, determined and expectant. He waited for Chiyo’s own confirmation despite her earlier remark...but to his dismay, all he got was her drooping expression and the small shake of her head. 

“His arm is cracked open like a glowstick. Kind of hard to mistake for anything but.” She rebutted. 

He ignored the ‘matter-as-a-fact-tone’ in her voice and argued back with the same conviction, maybe even a bit defensive.“What robot needs to breathe? Or has a pulse?” The questions came from a place of agitation and confusion. He may not know much about androids, but he  _ knew _ his student. So Shinso’s arm was robotic. That could be explained easily enough. He could have been scared of being confused for an android. Hell, Shinso being an android in general- it physically made no sense. He’d seen his student eat, drink, sweat, sleep, express pain...Most of all, Aizawa had seen Shinso  _ cry _ . The boy had shown him fear and despair he himself had only seen a handful of times throughout his life. There was no way that was a fabrication of programming and code. It wasn’t possible. 

So then why was Chiyo giving him such a pitiful look? He didn’t need it. He needed to be told his student was fine. That this was all some big misunderstanding. He already knew he was right, so why was she hesitating?

“I don’t know what you know about androids, but some are extremely detailed depending on the model. It’s not uncommon for androids to simulate human behaviors. Breathing is one of them. It makes them appear more...human.” He flinched at her choice of words but instead of backing down, he pushed forward. 

“And his heartbeat?” Aizawa countered, heat rising in his voice. Recovery Girl shot him a look that made him reign in his tone. 

“Androids are made with synthetic hearts or ‘pumps’ that circulate blue blood throughout the body. I don’t know how it works myself. I’m a nurse, not a technician.”

Aizawa clenched the railing tighter. “And you’ve treated Shinso before and never noticed this?” That’s right. Chiyo had checked him in the past. How could he have passed the physical? How did Chiyo’s quirk heal him of his injuries? There were so many things that didn’t make sense. For God's sake, they had metal detectors everywhere. They had students and teachers with magnetic and metal quirks. Someone would have noticed.  _ He _ would have noticed, it’s what he was trained for. He of all people should have noticed  _ something _ . 

“His injuries never broke the skin, which I thought was odd but luck is not that uncommon in this academy. There was never any reason to draw blood. I’ll need to pull up his health records and reexamine them. Something’s obviously amiss here.” 

“But your quirk definitely healed him. Besides that, androids don’t have quirks. Shinso does.” Right now it just seemed like he was arguing with himself. There was no reason to get so worked up at Chiyo. Not when he had come to her for help.

The stout old woman just shook her head. “I don’t know, Eraserhead. The only explanation I can think of is he’s a very realistic model that’s programmed to follow the norms around him. And if he was made to blend in so well, it’s possible he was built to be a lookout. That could explain the quirk...” Shouta’s face visibly paled. Just the accusation alone was enough to make his vision warble. 

_ There was no way.  _ Shinso had confided in him. The kid himself didn’t open up very much if at all. He was private, quiet, but determined in his own right. On one of Shinso’s off days where he wasn’t performing as well as he wanted, he confided in his teacher. It made Aizawa’s heart twist at how fragile and quiet his student’s voice became at times. How his glassy gaze kept darting into Aizawa’s, a silent question to keep speaking. Shinso confessed how becoming a hero was his one and only dream. And there were so many times throughout his life he thought about giving up on it. Aizawa could read between the lines and understand what he meant without him having to say it. The look in Shinso’s eyes spoke for him. 

Perhaps if Aizawa hadn’t been through such a similar trial in his own life maybe he would have been able to offer more solid reassurance without his voice warbling as he did. Maybe he would have been able to return home that night without breaking down in his kitchen because of something he remembered while washing his coffee mug. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to call Hizashi over in the dead hours of the night to calm him down and pry the wine bottle from his hands because the tidal wave of memories was  _ too much _ as he remembered when he also wore that broken defeated look that he saw on Hitoshi’s face. 

He has  **NOT** been training a machine this entire time. He hasn’t. And he definitely wasn’t training a  **spy** . 

Aizawa opened his mouth to say something but was abruptly cut off. “However,” Recovery Girl snapped sharply, her hand raised up to stop the avalanche of words ready to spill from his mouth. “None of this is concrete. I’ve only worked with androids in hospitals and care facilities so my knowledge is limited. I’m actually surprised at how little you know, Eraserhead, but I suppose you’ve never had the flair for technology, the minimalist you are.”

Aizawa bit his bottom lip and breathed in deeply. In an effort to save face that he had all but thrown to the wind at this point, he turned away and paced halfway across the room, his rough scarred hand pinching his eyes before stopping to cover his mouth. He breathed in and out deeply, taking everything in. 

Recovery Girl watched him quietly. She glanced at the sleeping boy she’d treated more than a couple of times already. She remembers the first time she met him. He was just as stubborn as Aizawa, quiet, and depersonalized. Of course, he started training him. It was a match made in heaven. She never suspected anything of him, much less  _ this _ . 

“There’s another explanation, I think.” She finally added after some careful thinking. 

Aizawa perked up, hand coming off his face. “What?”

Chiyo glanced one more time at the boy before turning to face Aizawa fully. “Have you ever heard of the term, Deviant?”


	5. The Master(?): Name It and You'll Get Attached To It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CyberLife is the world's leading android designer, manufacturer, and retailer of androids. Bakugo has enough trouble trusting humans. Even if it only 'looks' human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY GOT THIS DONE. THIS IS ONLY THE FIRST PART. There's more to this Kiribaku chapter I promise. I hope to post it not long after this one.

_ ‘Why did they make them so...lifelike?’ _ The detail was tripping him out. He saw androids on a daily basis. He saw them in stores, fixing roads, patrolling secure areas...but Cyberlife’s androids were...definitely built on another level from all the others he had seen. 

Only rich pricks had the privilege of owning androids when he was younger, and those versions were only the beginning of what engineers and technicians would accomplish. Now, androids could be found in just about any home for any number of purposes. Owning an android was like owning a vacuum cleaner. There was no weirdness in owning one. There wasn’t. So why? Why does he get a weird feeling just looking at the thing?

The workshop they were in reeked of weird chemicals and fine dust. Every room he passed on his journey deeper into the company building was filled wall to wall with tools and equipment he'd never seen before. A wide variety of people in important-looking gear surrounded monitors and gadgets, conversing in a vocabulary too foreign for him to follow. 

_ God, _ he felt so out of his element here. He felt that all the workers and researchers were staring at him with hard calculating gazes. It was just his paranoia talking, he knew, but even if he did, it never made the feeling go away any faster. He hadn’t wanted to come here, but his ‘friend’ had made him. It was the same weak excuse as before, but it was enough for the Pro to begrudgingly hang up his costume for the day and follow his friend into the seat of her overly renovated car. If he had known he would have been going into such a renowned billion-dollar company instead of Mei’s private cozy workshop, maybe he would have fought harder on his end.

In his head, Bakugo noted to throw the clothes he had on now into the washer the moment he got home, lest the weird stench of burnt plastic and grain linger in his nose for the next few days. He could already feel a headache coming on from the exposure alone. He recognized the feeling. What came next was a migraine, hopefully just an acute one. 

_ ‘Great.’ _ He thought bitterly.  _ ‘Just another thing he needed to add to this long shitty day.’ _ The Pro exhaled out his nose, hoping that the air would carry the unpleasant smell that was starting to imprint itself on his tongue. He winced when his head throbbed faintly. 

Bakugo had his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, clenching his fists in spite of the pain. He tried distracting himself by staring at the android standing on the makeshift pedestal. The android stared back at him blankly, almost expressionless. Their eyes met only once, but Bakugo couldn’t suppress the uneasy feeling in his gut and wrenched his gaze away. 

He already didn’t like this. 

The easily excitable woman bounced with energy next to him, her arms extended to point to the android they were looking at.“This is what I was talking about! They let me work on an android as part of my apprenticeship! Pretty cool right? Right?” She beamed at the Pro, eyes glittering with excitement and pride. 

Mei was one of the few people he’d stayed in contact with over the years. She enhanced and upgraded his equipment multiple times, including his Grenadier Bracers. He hated to admit it, but he wouldn’t be where he was today without her generous help. She never even asked anything of him in return, other than the results of her efforts, of course. Mei was the closest thing he had to a friend despite him denying that they were anything but. 

“I thought you said you had a new upgrade for me. How exactly am I supposed to use  _ this _ against a villain?” He growled lowly but held back on his bitter tone. He admittedly had more patience with Mei than he used to. 

Mei wasn’t at all put down by Bakugo’s disdain. If anything, she grew even more ebullient. “You don’t! This is a  _ personal _ upgrade.” She playfully patted Bakugo’s back which made him shoot her a look. She respectfully retreated her hand, but not her Cheshire-like smile. 

Bakugo tried to keep his gaze blank and voice calm. “I’ve never needed an android before and I don’t need one now. What the hell would I need a glorified Roomba for anyway?”

A wild jubilance cast over her eyes, excitement quickening her words and vibrating her movements. “Iiiiiii am so glad you asked! Because this isn’t your plain old android! He’s a jack of all trades! Courtesy of yours truly!”

Mei didn’t waste any time and started rambling off on all of the features and programs she’d  _ dexterously _ processed into her newest creation. After the first few sentences he was completely lost and his mind eventually just started blocking out her voice. He was too tired for this. The pressure against his skull was growing, and his friend’s loud voice wasn’t helping it. All he wanted to do was slink into his bed and sleep the rest of the shitty day away. 

Bakugo lifted his bleary gaze to stare intently at the machine gaping back at him in equal measure. It’s model number stuck out on his uniform in bright white letters. ' **AX400** .' The android itself looked pretty standard. Average height, average build, average black-hair…though his eye-catching red eyes did catch his curiosity, reminding him of his own. 

To say it was extremely detailed would be an understatement. If Katsuki had never seen the circular LED planted in the android's right temple, he might have mistaken the bot for an actual person. In the back of his mind, he remembered hearing once how Cyberlife liked ‘humanizing’ their androids to make them as lifelike as possible. 

To blur the line between human and machine- to simulate a human being, even down to the speed and duration of their blinking. It was supposed to make their owners feel more ‘comfortable’ around it. But to Bakugo, the alarming accuracy was alarming enough.

However, there was one thing that did make him appreciate Mei’s choice in its design. In a weird way, it was kind of funny. It was almost strange seeing an android so...ordinary. Most people he knew who had androids wanted their models to look unique and whimsical, some even going as far as to design them after famous heroes or quirks. But this model was nothing like those half-baked show-dogs he’d seen being held in awe on the news like they were butt-powdered poodles. If Mei had planned this out from the beginning, he was impressed. 

However, as soon as that thought came, that uneasy feeling from before spiked when the android’s mouth suddenly twitched upwards in a small smile. The Pro visibly flinched and tore his eyes away with the turn of his head. Bad mistake. The jackhammer wacking away in his skull took its chance to hit the nerves right behind his left eye. It took everything in him to hold it together, the throbbing in his head outweighing the sensation of his nails raking into his palms. 

He wanted to blow up the damned piece of plastic right there where it stood. The look in its eyes wasn’t normal. The smile on its face wasn't natural. Its expression was too deep, too searching. Everything about it felt wrong.  _ Violently _ wrong. 

In truth, he always hated the idea of androids. Robots were fine, but the fact that androids were made to look so much like humans… 

Ever since he first saw machines start taking the appearances of people, that feeling deep in his gut only grew stronger and stronger. He hated that feeling. The feeling that tightened the muscles in his throat and made it hard to think. The feeling that iced his veins and churned his stomach. The feeling that clouded his thoughts and sent his mind into a spiral… That feeling that made him remember how little people actually  _ valued _ human life. 

But he stopped talking about those  _ feelings _ a long time ago. He hated it. He hated the terrible feeling with no name. He hated the fact he'd never get the satisfying answers he was looking for. 

But he hated himself the most when he agreed to keep the android. To take it home. To have it in his space and presence. To risk having other people know that he has it.

In the end, it was easier than the alternative. It was no coincidence Mei had been the one to give it to him. If it were anyone else, he'd have no trouble flat-out rejecting them. The broad was never one to give up easily. Hell, she was about as stubborn as he was. 

He'd regret his decision for sure. He might even loathe it for days or weeks on end. But for right now, that didn't matter. What mattered was getting out of that suffocating, chrome-colored building so he could go home and nurse the rapidly growing migraine before he lost his lunch all over Mei’s dust-covered boots. 

When Mei sweetly tried suggesting Bakugo choose a name for his new android, he almost backhanded her with his gaze alone.  _ Shockingly _ , she let the idea go. 

"AX400, register your name please!" Mei enthusiastically chirped. The android blinked, the circle on its temple flickering from its normal blue hue to yellow. 

"Set to default name. Kirishima."

The LED light switched back to blue. The android glanced at Bakugo with a look he couldn't read. And then he- it, smiled again. 

"My name is Kirishima."


	6. The Ex-Hero: Made in God's image

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that one scene in The Incredibles? Yeah, you'll get it. Maybe...
> 
> Also, Izuku needs validation. I relate lmao

Izuku had been to UA more than a handful of times. 

Androids weren’t permitted inside the Academy for security reasons. However, Izuku was a rare exception. The android had been Toshiniri’s nurse and primary caregiver for a few months short of a year now. 

The ex-pro hero was always accompanied by security on and off-campus, courtesy of Principal Nezu and the concern of his close friends. Although Izuku was grateful for the extra protection in favor of his charge, Toshi always loathed the wall of security guards around him and preferred to travel alone when he could.

There were always gatherings, ceremonies, and other events the retired Symbol of Peace would be invited too, and while All Might didn’t make many appearances these days due to his health, he always tried to make an exception when it came to UA. 

Today they were attending a ceremony commending the success of last week’s UA Sports Festival and its runner-ups. Afterward, they would attend an assembly. Kind of like an after-party after the actual party. Fewer balloons, and a less formal atmosphere. 

The second Izuku received Toshiniri’s invitation, he became  _ ecstatic _ . Visiting UA was like visiting Disneyworld for him(not that he’d ever been to one, that’s just something he’d heard once). Even when he tried his hardest to conceal his enthusiasm, he always ended up running off at the mouth to his Charge about every little thing. Sure, he had a limitless database of vast knowledge right at his fingertips, but any information he looked up paled in comparison to the real thing. And who better to ask but the Number One? (Ex-Number One, if you’re talking to Toshi)

Ever since meeting the Symbol of Peace himself, Izuku found himself captivated by ‘Hero Society.’ It was hard to believe that quirks themselves hadn’t even existed for more than a couple of centuries. That wasn’t even a fraction of the time that humans had lived on this planet! It was this world’s biggest and most damning mystery, and his computer mind couldn’t help but try over and over to piece together the unsolvable answer splayed out in pieces around him.

Indeed, he became riveted on the subjects and history of heroes and quirks, pouring hours upon hours of research into the dead hours of the night while his charge was asleep. There were so many things that amazed him as they did confuse him. To think that humanity’s entire perception of reality evolved drastically overnight, stunting the technological age up until the emergence of Cyberlife and it’s industry. It was an unnerving thought, to think that he would have never existed at all had it not been for Cyberlife. And yet there was another part of him that couldn’t be grateful despite that fact. 

Whenever those thoughts arose in his mind, a dreadful cloud of malaise melted over him. ‘The demons of his past worked fiercely,’ as his charge would put it. 

Izuku never had the privilege of having free-time or hobbies before. There was never an opportunity for him to do things like ‘ruminate’ or ‘’watch the clouds roll by’ like he could now. Back then, there was only him and his job and nothing else. Whenever he remembered that looking down and just being aware of where he was and what he was doing felt so off-putting like he shouldn’t be allowed such luxuries. His mind did that sometimes -Told him the wrong things, tried to  _ correct  _ him, you could say. 

It happened often during his research. Izuku’s processor would mix up ‘dictionary information’ for ‘learned information’ on a near day-to-day basis. The journals Toshi had given him had helped him greatly in organizing his thoughts and snuffing out those pesky errors. 

Journaling unintendedly also helped him  _ express _ himself through his passion. Just the intimate action of writing words across a page felt liberating -Like each letter was an extension of his very essence. Holding a simple pen in his hand felt so natural and pleasant, he started carrying one with him at all times. And if he ever started feeling nervous or anxious like he did at times, he’d casually twirl the pen around his fingers until the feeling drifted away. The Sonic Fall was one of the first tricks he’d learned, and it was still his most favorite. 

Of course, not all information couldn’t be written down. Anything that was too involuted to write in words, he learned to format and print out himself. He had to admit, his books were starting to look more like paper sandwiches than research journals the more paper he stuffed inside them. 

Toshi would definitely provide him with an organizer if he asked, but as much as he trusted him, Izuku couldn’t find it in himself to trouble him. Although his charge never said anything, Izuku knew. Behind his generous smile and clement conversations, his charge was quietly suffering from his own demons. There were those quiet evenings Izuku pretended not to notice Toshi in his old office, staring deeply at old photos of people he thought about often but never talked about. 

Knowing how much Toshi had already lost, Izuku couldn’t lament his own botherations to such a kind and humble friend. More than anything, Izuku just wanted to take his burdens from the older man’s shoulders. 

Even...even if he did often wonder about what his life would look like if he were born a human. If he was blessed with a quirk. People thought of androids as nearly useless devices for that fact alone despite how much progress androids have done for humankind. Izuku knew why. It was all because they lived in a hero society -A quirk-ruled society. And even if he  _ could _ march down the street the same as any other person, it wouldn’t change the fact that without a quirk he was still considered the lowest of the low among the populace. One of the… Undesirables. 

People used to think that those who owned androids were just making up for their lack of enviable quirks. It took a while for people’s perspectives to change, but those preconceptions are still present in modern-day society. 

Only humans would ever have quirks, and androids only cybernetic enhancements. Everything an android was able to do relied on what its purpose was, and that was it. Androids were objects, not Japanese citizens. 

Though Izuku did hear once that it was estimated that within the next few years as Cyberlife continued dominating more fields, an Android Hero was not just probable, it was inevitable. Izuku...wasn’t sure how he felt about that. To Izuku, Heroes were people like Toshiniri. Not a role just anyone can fill for the sake of filling. 

But...if an android could become a hero, a hero without a quirk….could Izuku also….

No. No, he was being foolish again. Even if he could never stand in the same place Toshiniri(or any other hero for that matter, and that’s being generous) once stood, it was enough just to be able to relish in his own frothy research. It was enough. He could be content with this. 

And when the time came when Izuku had a question his resources couldn’t provide an answer to, Toshi was always right there ready to give him an answer. It was a blessing to have Toshinori as his charge. It truly was. He never got annoyed or upset at his questions, in fact, he seemed to revel in his interests. He and Toshi had spent many hours flipping through photo albums and outdated history books, lost in brown study until poor Toshi’s head couldn’t take any more thinking. Izuku was happy in this life. 

But he couldn’t always bask in those happy moments forever. When the date for the Ceremony finally arrived, Izuku had to leave his aficionado self at the door. While he was out in the public eye, he couldn’t act like he did in front of Toshi. 

While at UA, Izuku was your average caregiver android. And he was splendid at being just that. That’s how it had to be. 

____

With some effort, Toshi was able to convince the security guards to wait outside the door to the lounge while they waited for the ceremony to begin. Izuku parked his wheelchair in front of one of the tables and went to make some tea.  _ Toshi could use something warm and soothing... _

Toshinori let out a long exhausted sigh, his hand running over his face and stopping at his chin, “I don’t know why they feel the need to invite me to these things. An old man like me can’t keep up with all these new-fangled events. They keep making new ones, new things to celebrate! Highly unnecessary if you ask me…” he grumbled. 

Izuku let himself smile a little at that, it was rare to hear Toshi so grumpy. He knows how much his charge dislikes these meetings. Even Izuku thought the event in question was a bit of a reach as far as ceremonies go. Just the previous week they had been to watch the Sport’s Festival. Izuku sure wasn’t complaining about being back so soon(do NOT call him a fanboy, he’s a scholar, really!), but Toshiniri didn’t share the same sentiment. 

At his charge’s words, Izuku tried to think of something positive to say. “It’s an honor to see the Symbol of Peace attend events at UA like this. The students are always delighted by your presence.” It was true. It was  _ more _ than true. Izuku had yet to meet a single person who wasn’t humbled or dazzled by All Might’s presence.

Toshi waved his hand in a flippant manner, “ _ Former _ Symbol of Peace, my boy. And it’s tiring to be a wallflower. I can’t even stand up for the crowds anymore...”

Izuku’s face softened watching the old man’s face turned somber. Pouring the tea into a cup, he turned to face Toshi, saucer in hand.  _ “Never let your zeal outrun your charity. The former is but human, the latter is divine.” _ He recited, strong and precise in his tone. 

That got him to smile. The old hero paused before belting out a hearty laugh. He shook his head at the android and he took the cup handed to him, breathing out a small ‘thank you.’ 

“You should take over my speeches. Tell me, what well of knowledge did you wish into to gain that grain of wisdom, eh?”

Izuku turned back to clean up his mess on the counter, “It was just something I picked up while skimming your library. It was a quote from Hosea Ballou, I believe.” But of course it was. Izuku never forgot anything. 

Toshi shook his head again after taking a sip. “I didn’t even know I had a book on him. Is that what you’ve been reading? Surely there are more interesting things to read than that. I can always get more books for you if your reading material is running low.”

“No!” Izuku jumped at the raise of his own voice. He clamped a hand over his mouth and tried in vain to start again, “I-I mean- it’s nothing like that. I really enjoyed reading about him. Him and his...his beliefs.” Izuku reigned back his enthusiasm but his guise was already cracked. 

Toshi cracked a smile and took another sip of his tea. “Ballou was a universalist, wasn’t he? Self-educated too, just like you. Remind me what he was known for again?”

Izuku let himself smile, although it was a nervous one. Self-educated.  _ Him _ . Yagi was probably the only one in the world who believed that. He silently wondered to himself if he’d ever truly get used to breaking character in-front of him. He always just got too comfortable around the old man. It made him forget what he was and what he was built for. And feelings aside, just being at UA now was proof of that. 

“He-he defined theology as a science of human experience...and that all humans have a God-given right to be happy. A-also! Humans aren’t subjected to eternal damnation like most religions say.” He explained, little by little his words starting to speed up, his stutter becoming more prominent as his eyes were glazed over in deep thought. Toshi sat back and listened earnestly. 

“ In  Ballou's own words he said,  _ ‘If the Almighty, as we believe him to be, did not possess power sufficient to make all his creatures happy, it was not an act of goodness in him to create them... If it be granted that God has both power and will to save all men, it is granting all I want for a foundation of my faith.’ _ " 

Toshi hummed, fond in his expression. “Very powerful words. And that resonated with you?”

“Yes. V-very much so.”

“I think that’s good.” 

A knock on the door caught them both by surprise, and just like that, the peaceful air they’d built together shattered into pieces around them. Sir Nighteye stepped inside without waiting for a reply. Izuku’s mind bugged out for a second before he remembered to avert his gaze and bow politely. If he wasn’t looking down at the floor, he would have seen Nighteye’s subtle scowl at the sight of him, but he already knew. 

“Hello, Toshiniri. It’s good to see that you are well.” He greeted Toshiniri with a short nod of his head. Although his face was hard, his voice was softer than it was with most people he talked to. 

“Likewise, my friend.” Toshi returned the greeting with a genuine smile and the raise of his hand. “I didn’t expect you to be here. Are you scouting interns for the hero work-study?” 

Sir shook his head and answered flatly. “No. Eri is already interning under Mirio. I have enough on my plate with the two of them to babysit.” 

Toshi smiled, laughter bubbling up his lungs. “You must have your hands full then.”

“You wouldn’t know the half of it, Yagi.”

Izuku courteously tried to step away from their conversation so they could talk with more ease, but to his dismay, Sasaki had already noticed him. With a critical eye, the jaded but still very intimidating hero stared the android down. Izuku kept his face neutral, as much as he wanted to squirm under his cold gaze. 

“I see...you are still utilizing the android model from cyberlife.”

Izuku’s charge nodded. “Yes. Izuku has been taking good care of me. I appreciate his company too.”

“I’m sure it’s quite entertaining, yes. I know it’s already been a year without incident but I have to ask...there are no problems with it? You didn’t want a full reset and the services mentioned there would probably be...complications without a full assessment. Cyberlife isn’t a company that I-” Nighteye’s gaze flickered between the old man and the android standing beside him. He exhaled, shoulders slacking. “Anything could change. That’s all I’m saying.”

Yagi’s face hardened, a disapproving tone edging in his voice. "No. Things have been the same as they’ve always been. Izuku has been doing fine without it, as it turns out. If there were any problems, I’d have reached out."

"I know I've suggested this in the past, more than once, but I do have connections that could equip you with a more suitable care system. One single android can't be enough in the long run and I do believe you would do better in the company and care of real people-"

“Sir. Mind yourself.” Toshi held up his wide and scarred hand, and his former sidekick reluctantly snapped his jaw shut. “We’ve had this discussion many times, and my answer is still the same.” 

Sir was quiet for a few long moments, the glint of his glasses hiding his eyes. Izuku felt like he was staring right through him. It gave the word ‘cold’ a whole new meaning. He glanced over at Yagi, his charge, who’s expression was steeled in resolve. A flutter of admiration made him forget his own anxiety for a few brief seconds. He wished he could reach for his pen...

“Fine. I don’t know why I thought I could convince you after a year.”

“I know your efforts come from a place of caring. That being said, so do mine.”

“That. That right there is what worries me, All Might.”

“Toshinori Yagi, Sir.” 

“You never stopped being a hero to the people. Much less to me.”

A loud trill suddenly rang throughout the room, and Sir reached into his pocket for his phone. After a few taps, he looked back at Toshi. 

“I came here to tell you that we have a seat for you by the front. It should be comfortable enough for you to slip in and out if you need it. If you’ll let me escort you I can take you right to it.”

“If it means I get to leave those security guards by the door, then by all means be my guest.” 

“They are for your protection, Yagi.”

“A heart attack will kill me first, I’ll bet you on it.” 

“I’d rather  _ not _ .”

Izuku didn’t miss the brief, yet despairing look on the pro-hero’s face as he turned the other way to open the lounge door. For a moment, Izuku felt like he could relate to Nighteye. 

He felt the same way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY. This chapter gave me more trouble than necessary. 
> 
> If it's not too much trouble to ask, please gimme some love down in the comments. It lets me know you liked the chapter and feedback really helps me with my writing in general! 
> 
> Thank you for all your support guys! ^-^

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Appreciate all of you who leave comments and kudos! You guys make my day man. Also please pray for me my back is destroyed from sitting.


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